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Witch Wants Forever (The Witches of Wimberley Book 2) by Victoria Danann (6)


 

 

CHAPTER Six

 

Rachel hadn’t slammed back into her body since she was a child and had no control. She’d forgotten how jarring it was. Her back arched up after the initial impact and she gasped. She was also cold from having been gone for so long and the extreme shivering was alarming.

All the women piled on the bed with her to snuggle around and get her warmed up quickly. When the shaking began to subside, Charisma said, “You want some hot tea?” Rachel nodded and moved to get up. “Just tell us.” Charisma forced the question out even though she did not want to ask it. “Is he alive?”

Ten minutes later she was sitting in the kitchen blowing across the top of a cup of steaming black tea. She took a sip, cleared her throat to make sure her voice was working and said, “He doesn’t remember who he is.”

Rachel couldn’t believe how calm she sounded. She felt numb, like her mind and body had overdosed on novocaine.

She looked around the table at Charisma, Harmony, Gale, and Raider, who had returned with boxes full of kolaches. And cranberry juice. And a cheap bouquet of flowers from the grocery store because he thought that was what Dash would do. They, in turn, looked at each other.

Harmony cleared her throat, perhaps in sympathy with Rachel, and said, “You mean like amnesia?”

Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but Raider said, “Hold on a second.” He answered the call. “Yeah?” Pause. To Harmony he said, “Turn the TV on. Channel 36. Pete says they’re showing an interview with Dash’s family.”

There was a medium-sized flat screen TV above the double oven. Harmony had taken the remote, turned it on, and found the channel within seconds.

“…from our affiliate in Denver. Yesterday they ran this story.”

A photo of a pale and lost-looking Dash came on the screen followed by the voice of a narrator who told how the man with no name and no ID was found by a Gilpin County deputy along with a call to action should anyone know who he was.

The shot switched back to the local Austin anchor. “It seems the man has been claimed by one of Denver’s most prominent families, owners of Fonteneau Food Services. We’re going live to our affiliate in Denver right now as they bring us an exclusive interview.”

The interviewer, a well-groomed, heavily made up young woman, said, “We’re here at the University of Colorado Sports Medicine and Performance Center in Boulder where the mystery man was reunited with his family a few minutes ago. His brother, Zane Fonteneau, saw our announcement and called the Channel 9 hotline. With me here is Dr. Ari Parsighian, who is a concussion specialist.”

He nodded.

She introduced the family members one by one.

“Fuck all,” Raider said. “That guy looks just like Dash.” Everyone assumed he was referring to Zane because, fuck all, they did look a lot alike.

“So, Dr. Parsighian, you’re a concussion specialist?”

“Yes.”

“Is your facility in the habit of taking on patients who are found wandering the roads?”

The good doctor was so blindsided by the tone and content of that question that he hesitated, which was all the opening Adrienne needed.

“Of course not,” she spat, as the entire rest of the family went as tense and still as deer in the face of a nearby predator. “Don’t be ridiculous. My son, Dashiell, graduated from this institution with honors and has supported the school as an alumnus ever since. We also fund a range of scholarships and building funds. This family’s contribution to this school and both the Denver and Boulder communities is beyond question.”

The reporter had a gleam in her eye. “I see. You’re the mystery man’s mother.”

“I am.”

“What was it like for you, during the hours your son was missing?”

Grey stepped in to field the question and, hopefully, keep the train wreck limited to one train.

“We didn’t know he was missing. He’d been in Denver for a conference. My wife had breakfast with him Friday morning. He was supposed to fly directly home that night.”

“And where is home?”

Grey froze. “He’s been between things.”

The interviewer leaned forward. “You don’t know where he lives?”

Thinking she was rescuing her husband, Adrienne waded in. “He’s been away getting an MBA from Tulane.”

“So he’s a student. And he lives in New Orleans.”

“He completed the program,” Adrienne said.

“He graduated.”

“Yes,” Adrienene agreed.

“In May?” the reporter pressed.

“Yes,” Adrienne continued as if she couldn’t tell what was coming.

“This past May?”

Zane jumped in. “My brother graduated May of last year. He’s been on personal leave since then. My family is grateful to Channel 9 for alerting us to this situation. So if you’ll excuse us.”

As the Fonteneaus took off their mics and prepared to leave, the reporter said, “Do you have any idea what he was doing near Central City?”

“We don’t know,” Zane said. “Maybe someday we’ll find out. Maybe we won’t.”

When the family walked out, the Austin station resumed coverage to wrap up and then it was over. Harmony picked up the remote and shut it off.

Raider’s phone rang. He picked up. “Yeah?” Pause. “Yeah. We saw it.” He sighed. “I don’t know. Thanks for the heads up.”

Everybody looked at Rachel with profound sympathy stamped on their faces.

“What could have happened that he was found with no phone, no ID? And how did he get there?”

Raider had pulled Central City up on the map. Looking at his phone he said, “Too far to Uber. I guess if one of the rental companies is missing a car, they’ll figure that out.”
 

 

“We need to let the police know that the Tahoe is missing,” Adrienne said to Grey. Her heels clacked as she walked on the hospital-shine tile floors. He had hold of her elbow, either to see her out of the building in a gentlemanly way or to be sure she didn’t break and run back to grab the reporter by the hair.

“That’s the least of our problems right now,” he replied drily.

Zane stood in the doorway where Dash waited with Jack. He smiled when Dash looked his way, but when there was no connection, he got a glimpse of how difficult the future could be. There was a sting in his heart every time Dash looked at him without a spark of recognition.

Zane knowing Dash better than anyone else and having Dash not know Zane from Adam? It was going to the strangest relationship in the history of brothers. And painful for Zane.

He set those thoughts aside. “Deputy. Thank you again. Are these, ah, your clothes?” He waved at what Dash was wearing.

“Yeah. There wasn’t really time to do much else.”

“You’ve been very kind and I won’t forget it. We’ll see that these things get back to you.” Zane handed Jack his card. “If ever you need anything, I’m the person to call. You could do worse than being friends with this family.”

Jack took the card, but shook his head. “I’m just glad you found him.” He smiled at Dash. “He’s a nice guy. Deserves the best. I hope you’ll stay in touch. Come up to Idaho Springs for a pizza every now and then.”

Dash did his best to smile. “You’ve made me a pizza pig for life.”

Jack shook hands with Dash and started to walk away, but stopped. “He knows some stuff. When we got here to the campus yesterday morning, he recognized it and knew where this building was.”

Dash smiled and nodded. That was encouraging.

Once Jack was out of sight, Dash was standing in a hallway with strangers, feeling as out of place and insecure as it was possible to be.

“Car’s this way,” Zane said to Dash. He flicked a glance at Adelaide, who’d remained silent through the entire ordeal. She gave her husband a warm, reassuring smile and squeezed his hand briefly.

Dash’s eyes tracked the movement and something about it made his heart hurt.

“I never get tired of coming up here,” Zane said. “If there’s a more beautiful campus anywhere, I don’t know about it.”

Dash looked around and nodded. “Did you go here?”

Zane barked out a laugh. “No. Not either that smart or that dedicated. We’re going to the Brasserie. It’s where the Crown Hotel used to be. You know how to get

there?”

“Am I supposed to focus on the flattery or the self-deprecation?”

Zane laughed. “Your bullshit detector is still firing on all cylinders.”

“I know where the Crown is. Or, ah, was.”

“You want to drive?”

Zane reasoned out that, ‘You want to drive?’ was a better question than, ‘Can you drive?’ It was a back door in.

Dash didn’t hesitate. “I don’t have a driver’s license.”

“Not a problem. If you get stopped, we’ll explain that you’re getting a replacement tomorrow.”

Dash shrugged. “Okay.”

Zane’s gaze flitted to Adelaide and they exchanged a knowing look. Giving Dash the feeling of a little control could only be a good thing.

When they stopped at the car, Zane handed Dash the keys. Dash had a funny look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Zane asked.

“Nothing. I guess I just pictured you with a different kind of car.”

Zane laughed as he was going around to the passenger side. “Matter of fact it’s new. Adelaide’s pregnancy has made her sensitive to a stiff ride. So the BMW and the Range Rover both got traded in for smooth rides.”

Dash drove them directly to the Brasserie as if he did it every day.

They were given a table on the patio and three menus. When the hostess smiled down at Dash, she stopped and said, “Oh. You’re that…”

Catching movement from her left she looked over to see Zane shaking his head slightly. She decided the prudent thing to do was shut up. “Enjoy your brunch. Specials at the top of the menu and the mango margaritas are marvelous.”

Dash laughed. Everybody looked at him. “Marvelous mango margaritas?” When no one said anything, he offered, “Well, I guess I wasn’t a comedian.”

Zane smiled. “Maybe your sense of humor has improved.”

Dash didn’t know Zane, but he did have a sense that men tease each other as an expression of affection. “Maybe.” He turned to his sister-in-law. “Adelaide. Which one of us is funnier?”

She took in a deep breath. “Hmmm. Hard to say. You’d both starve to death if you had to live by stand-up.”

Zane chuckled. “Thanks, babe.”

Dash read the menu over like he’d never seen one before, finally saying, “What would I have ordered?” Zane looked at him. “You know. Before.”

“Nothing doing. I can’t wait to hear what you want now,” Zane said.

Dash smirked as he began to relax, while admitting to himself that he was warming to the good-natured guy who was almost wearing his face. He turned to Adelaide. “What are you having?”

“Green Benny.” She rubbed her tummy lightly. “Unfortunately there’ll be no marvelous mango margarita for moi.”

Dash looked at the menu. “It’s Eggs Benedict on spinach salad with smoked ham and no English muffin.” He nodded. “That sounds really good. I’ve been carb loading for a day and a half. Jack doesn’t have the best eating habits.”

“And are you having one of the marvelous mango margaritas?” Zane asked.

“Am I driving?”

“Want to?”

Dash thought about it for a few seconds. “If that’s okay.”

After giving their orders, Dash said, “What are we doing after this?”

“Well, I guess we need to make some decisions. Thought we’d discuss it over breakfast. We need to make a to-do list. Like getting you a new driver’s license. They’re going to ask you for an address. I guess that’s the first choice.

“Adelaide and I would love to have you stay at our place, for a while or permanently. It’s up to you and we have the space. Or there’s a downtown apartment that the family business owns for corporate guests. You can move in there. It’s nice,” he added. Dash looked from Zane to Adelaide. “It will not hurt our feelings if you decide to choose the penthouse option.”

“Penthouse?” Dash cocked an eyebrow.

Zane nodded. “Told you it was nice.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a little time by myself to start getting used to…”

“Of course. How about this? After brunch, we’ll go get you a phone so you can call if you need anything. Then we’ll get you situated at the penthouse.”

Dash took a sip of coffee. “Thank you.”

“Not accepted. Everything is already yours. Tomorrow morning we’ll go meet a personal shopper at Nordstrom and get you decked out. Then we’ll stop by the DMV and see about getting you a license. Dr. Parsighian wants you to take a bunch of tests this week.”

“What kind of tests?”

“The kind that could tell him conclusively what you do and don’t remember.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is that okay with you?”

Dash shrugged. “I guess I kind of want to know that too.”

 

Two hours later Dash was walking into a penthouse that looked like something out of Architectural Digest. It was industrial chic. Wood. Glass. Stainless steel. Stone. With neutral tone minimalist furniture.

Dash told himself that he’d be crazy not to love it. But there was something…

“Do you kind of know where you are?” Zane asked. Dash nodded. “Then you know that you can order in. You’re within two blocks of every kind of food imaginable, but since you were on TV yesterday and today,” his eyes drifted down Dash’s frame, “wearing those clothes, you would likely be recognized.” Dash looked away. “In a few days you won’t be an item anymore, but right now…”

“Yeah. I get it,” Dash said.

Zane placed the key that he’d gotten from security downstairs on the bar along with the cash he had in his wallet, the cash Adelaide had in her wallet, and a credit card. “Get what you want. And call us if you need anything. Even if it’s just to talk.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Zane just shook his head at that. “Pick you up at nine thirty?”

Dash nodded. “Sure.”

When they left he felt enormously relieved. But that was followed by a sadness more profound than he knew was possible. He sat down in the quiet space and stared out the floor-to-ceiling west facing windows at the front range. When the cloud cover gave way to sun, he heard the muted sound of a quiet motor and watched in amazement as solar shades descended. He could still see the view, but his eyes were shielded from full sun exposure.

As it began to get dark, he turned on some lights and began to look around. The place was beautiful. Too big for one person, he thought, but for a guy who didn’t know who he was, he certainly seemed to have landed on his feet.

 

Zane called his dad. “He’s at the penthouse.”

“How’d it go?”

“Honestly, I think he’s handling it better than I would. He’s tough.”

“Yes. Well. I had Barrett find out where that plane that he was supposed to be on was going. This is between you and me. I wouldn’t want your mother to know. You know how she is.”

“Understood. Where?”

“Austin.”

“Texas. You think we should have somebody check around Austin? Find out what was going on there? Maybe his memory would come back quicker if he was there.”

“No. He needs his family close by. When he’s ready he can go to work for the company.”

“Dad…”

“Zane. You know that’s what’s best.”

Zane didn’t know that for sure, but it wasn’t a war he wanted to wage. At least not at that juncture.

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